The confrontation erupted out of nowhere in the silent dark corridor of Helix's headquarters. The weak light above flickered, as if holding its breath while witnessing the tension frozen between the two figures facing off.
One of the Helix investigators glared sharply at Sebastian. His eyes weren't just suspicious—he was angry, betrayed, and fed up with keeping silent for too long.
"Don't pretend you don't know," he said flatly yet sharply. "Aurora has been working behind our backs. She disappears and returns at will. Do you think that's a coincidence?"
Sebastian remained calm, but his expression showed he was holding many truths that could not yet be revealed.
"She's not a traitor," he replied briefly.
"Of course you'd say that," the investigator pressed. "Because she's never stopped being an exception for you."
No reply followed. Silence was enough to ignite more anger.
"She didn't even tell you anything, did she?" he continued, stepping closer. "She disappeared without a trace, left no message, left behind no trust. If you still take her side, then you're also—"
Sebastian moved swiftly. A punch flew and struck the investigator's jaw, pushing him backward. He retaliated instantly, and a fight broke out.
Fists and kicks merged with muted thuds in the empty corridor. It wasn't a fight to win, but a conflict born from pent-up doubt, loyalty, and loss.
Eventually, Sebastian pinned his opponent against the wall. His breath was heavy, his voice low, almost inaudible. "She didn't tell me anything," he said.
Both stood still. Behind the rage and the blows, a truth slowly revealed itself: Aurora had not betrayed them. She was simply on a secret mission known only to herself. Reluctant and proud, Aurora did not like sharing.
After a moment, the two stood facing one another, their wounds reflecting not just punches, but anger, disappointment, and unspoken silence. Before another word or blow could be exchanged, footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.
A tall figure draped in a dark cloak emerged from the shadows. His face was hidden behind an expressionless metal mask—cold and unreadable. Everyone in Helix knew him by one title: the Overseer.
The atmosphere shifted in an instant. No one knew the face behind the mask, not even Sebastian, one of the closest members to Helix's core. The Overseer's voice was soft but firm—no need to raise his tone to command.
"Enough."
Silence enveloped the corridor. The two investigators lowered their heads—partly out of respect, partly out of shame.
"This is not the time to fight each other," continued the Overseer, stepping closer with measured strides. "Have you forgotten why we were formed? We don't act based on personal ties. We act to ensure this plan stays on track."
No one responded. The Overseer slowly turned toward both of them.
"Do you want to know where Aurora is?" he asked flatly. "That answer doesn't matter now. What matters is whether you can still execute this mission without letting emotions ruin everything."
Sebastian held his breath. The investigator in front of him clenched his fists but stayed silent. Seeing an opening, Aurora spoke up.
"I haven't seen Priyanka since returning to HQ," Aurora said without looking over. "Is she out on a mission?"
The Overseer paused not far from her. His face, still concealed behind the impenetrable iron mask, showed no eyes, no expression. His voice remained cold and monotonous.
"She's monitoring an experimental subject," he replied briefly. "Close surveillance. Special instructions."
Aurora glanced over halfway. "Alone?"
"She knows what she's doing."
"And then?" she asked softly.
A moment of silence followed. The Overseer didn't answer immediately; he tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether the question deserved a response. His voice returned—a flat tone, void of emotion.
"For now, what you need to know is that she's doing her part. Just like you. Focus on your task and don't let distractions divide your attention."
The orders came without elaborate explanation—but with enough firmness to be unquestioned. Eyes cold and voice heavy with detachment, the Overseer turned and looked straight at Sebastian.
"Watch Mr. Owl's trail. Don't let a single step go unmonitored."
Sebastian asked no questions, showed no doubt. He knew: when the Overseer spoke, it wasn't about a choice—it was duty. Without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving only the echo of his footsteps fading.
In Aurora's presence, the lingering silence felt heavy. The atmosphere weighed on the air—earth itself seemed to hold its breath. The Overseer turned to her; his gaze was as sharp as a blade.
"From now on, you'll accompany me on this expedition," he said quietly but firmly. "The Anti‑Solaris organization operates in the shadows. If they strike the headquarters, we must be ready. And I need someone who can fight, not just survive."
Aurora nodded slowly. She understood the risks. And for that, she knew she had to match the leader's rhythm. The Overseer wanted everything to proceed according to plan. No margin for error. Swift. Precise.
***
Alexa had already woken and left the room, heading to the Tavern bathroom to wash her face. After a while, she emerged refreshed, and her eyes found me sitting alone in the corner of the tavern with a server who had just brought two glasses of wine.
Alexa greeted me with a warm smile. I returned it and tried to introduce Alice, whom I had met earlier. But before I could properly present them, Alice suddenly stood up and drifted away without a single word or farewell.
She moved so briskly I almost lost track of her. But she was gone—leaving me alone in the tavern with only two glasses of wine for company.
I didn't mind—Alice probably had more important things to attend to. Instead, I couldn't stop thinking about Alexa, especially while she was asleep and murmuring the name "Alexis." That name spun around in my thoughts, making my heart uneasy.
Alexa's sharp gaze suddenly pierced through my reverie. She sat down beside me without a word. There was something heavy in her eyes—something she refused to reveal.
Then, without preamble, she broke the silence. "Don't tell anyone about my secret," she said softly but firmly. Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid someone might hear.
I just nodded, though I didn't fully understand what she was talking about. She continued, "Promise, don't tell anyone. Not even Mrs. Chloe."
I swallowed and nodded again. I didn't know what the secret was, but I knew I must guard it.
After another long silence, Alexa finally spoke. Her gaze drifted elsewhere, as if gathering courage.
"I need to be honest with you," she said quietly, her voice almost trembling. "The name 'Alexandria' is not my real name. Even 'Alexa' is only a shortened alias I made up myself."
I looked at her, silent, trying to absorb her words.
"My real name is… Avery Rosaleen. Short form, Avery. But you can call me by my alias—Alexis or Alexa. Don't use my real name." Her voice was fainter now, and I could feel the weight in her chest slowly unraveling.
"Why was I hiding it?" Alexa looked at me meaningfully. "Because it was my decision. I wanted to be recognized, truly recognized—not just by those around me, but especially by my father."
A small smile formed on her lips, though her eyes still held deep yearning.
"I wanted to see their smiles, to feel that I truly mattered to them. I wanted to be someone they could be proud of. That's why I use this name—to start fresh, with a new identity."
I nodded slowly, realizing how deep and heavy her hidden struggle had been. Her decision never wavered. Despite facing danger and betrayal, Alexa continued to fight against Helix with all her strength. She did everything so that her father—who had long shut his eyes to his daughter's existence—would finally look at her with pride.
But reality was never that simple. After learning of the Overseer's corruption, Alexa chose to join Anti‑Solaris—even if it meant the Valkyrie reputation she had built shattered in the eyes of many.
She did it not for popularity or recognition, but for her father's sake. Even now, he still struggles to look at her. Even those around her mock her, belittle her existence, and deem her a traitor.
Suddenly, Alexa couldn't hold back the burden she'd sequestered for so long. Tears streamed down her face, falling silently onto my lap. I held her tightly, letting her cry as much as she needed.
I knew how heavy her past had been—and that it had all been for the sake of an almost impossible recognition. She had changed her name, relinquished her real identity as Avery Rosaleen, just to feel valued and loved.
I clasped Avery's shoulders gently but firmly, wanting her to feel that no matter what she'd done, no matter her past—it didn't define who she really was.
"You are you," I said quietly but with conviction. "You must be yourself—even if the world rejects you. Especially if the world ends, there's no point hoping in anyone else. The only thing you can do is defy fate and the currents of this world."
I drew a deep breath, offering a bitter smile. "I know that probably sounds like nonsense, because I've never done something like this in my life. I have never challenged my fate."
But in that moment, I saw Alexa's tears flowing freely. Even if my words felt fragile and unbelievable, I knew she needed something to hold onto, something to hope for. Without hesitation, I hugged her tightly—firm enough to support her burdens, yet gentle enough to show I was by her side. I wanted her to know she wasn't alone.